Dad
by kazumigirl
Summary: Simba accidentally calls Timon, "Dad". What will this lead up to?


Dad

"Dig in while it's squirmy, "Pumbaa said as the trio sat down to eat lunch.

Three of them did just that. It was a big leaf filled with a variety of bugs.

As they ate, Pumbaa smiled asked, "Remember that time Simba caught that really fast grasshopper?"

Timon rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Pumbaa," he replied neutrally, "it was just this morning."

Simba grinned.

"Yah, I also climbed that really big tree! Remember, Timon? You said I couldn't do it, but I could!"

The tiny meerkat scoffed at this and bit into another crunchy green beetle.

"I remember. You couldn't get down either, no more tree climbing, young man."

The lion cub didn't seem to take the threat seriously and prodded Timon with his paw. He also lowered his front so his back end was in the air, his tail wagging furiously.

"I bet I could climb the biggest tree around here," he laughed and then his ears perked up," Hey! I will do that! Watch this guys! I'm going to go climb that humongous tree near the-"

Timon cut him off without even looking at him.

"Don't you dare," he warned wagging a finger, "I ain't gettin' no more cats out of no more trees."

Simba groaned good naturedly, rolling his eyes playfully and whined, "Aw, c'mon, Timon."

"No."

"Please?"

"Nah-ah."

"C'mon, I'll be-"

"Not happening."

"Timon."

"Nope."

Simba twisted around and stomped his paw playfully, pretending to be annoyed.

"Daa-aad!"

When he realized what had come out of his mouth, he closed it. His ears went down and he looked thoroughly embarrassed.

Pumbaa's eyes widened in realization and exclaimed, "That makes me his mom!"

He trotted away, his tail straight up in the air as he called, "I'll start dinner!"

Simba's ears and tail were so low they were practically dragging.

"I I'm sorry Timon, I didn't mean to, "his voice sounded smaller than it ever had before.

Timon's eyes clouded with enormous tears. He had never, ever felt so important in his life. So loved. So needed!

"C'mere, you bundle of cuteness!"

He extended his tiny arms and hugged the lion cub. As he rubbed his face into the golden fur, he said shakily, " You're the best thing that ever happened to us. You know that, kiddo?"

Simba's eyes which had beenwet with humiliated tears, now filled with tears of relief. He sniffled and asked meekly, "you mean that?"

The meerkat patted his shoulder.

"You bet I do."

During dinner, Timon grinned from ear to ear, cocking his head at little Simba, whom he'd fallen in love with. Was it possible that Timon was really a father in the cub's eyes? For most of his life, Timon had been considered anything but a figure of trust and reliability, but hearing Simba call him, "Dad" warmed his heart.

He felt he could simply float away.

"Hey, I got an idea," Pumbaa exclaimed slurping up a pink, fleshy worm, "Let's go for a night swim! What do you say?"

Timon clasped his tiny hands together in sheer delight.

"What a great idea, Pumbaa! I love night swimming!"

He elbowed Simba.

"What do you say, Buddy? Wanna go for an evening dip? Huh? Huh? Huh?"

His smile quickly faded when he saw Simba's face was long with sadness. He touched Simba's forearm softly and asked, "Simba, what's wrong?"

The lion cub stood up, his shoulders hunched and his ears down.

"I'm actually pretty sleepy," he muttered, "I'm going to go to bed."

The warthog and meerkat exchanged worried glances, but nodded anyway. They watched Simba drag his paws into the brush where he had a little grass bed. They heard him begin to cry softly.

"Poor Simba," Pumbaa said sadly, "what should we do, Timon?"

The meerkat crossed his arms and shrugged. What could they do? Why was Simba crying?

When the little cub had first come, he cried on and off at night, but his foster parents knew he had experienced something terrible, though they didn't know what. But that was, well, it seemed like a long time ago. Now, they could hear him crying again, softly, but loud enough to be heard when one was close enough.

Pumbaa placed a hoof on his friend's shoulder.

Timon looked at him questioningly.

"Go talk to him, Timon."

"Me? Why me? Let's both do it-"

"No!"

Timon's hands impaled into his sides.

"No? What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I don't know how, but I know this has something to do with him calling you, 'Dad' today."

Timon entered the brush patch alone. Simba's back was turned to him, and it tore Timon's heart to hear him crying. He cleared his throat a bit, not sure what to say just yet. The cub's ears perked slightly and he turned around. He sniffled and turned away.

"Simba," the meerkat approached him, "what's the matter? You can tell me."

The little cub's tears fell faster. His jaw trembled.

"I didn't mean to call you, 'Dad' today."

"I didn't mind," Timon reassured him, "I didn't mind at all, Buddy."

Not only had he not minded, he had loved it. He savored the entire memory and continued to replay it in his mind, as if it were the sweetest, juicist grub on the face of the planet.

"N-no, you see," the little cub finally looked at him, "My dad's, he's...gone."

"Oh," Timon looked down, "I see."

The pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place. No wonder Simba had been so down when they found him and cried occassionally. Not having a father, the meerkat couldn't even begin to imagine the horrors of losing one.

"I miss him so much," Simba whimpered, "and now I called somebody else 'Dad'."

He sobbed harder.

"Maybe I'm going to forget him!"

Timon put his paws on top of one of Simba's.

"Hey, hey, look at me, Simba," he said gently.

The cub looked at him.

"You being such a great kid, you had to have had a great dad," he informed him, "and I don't think you forget somebody so great. I know I could never forget you."

He stroked the whitish fur on Simba's toes, smiling slightly.

"Nobody can be your Dad, Kiddo, but it's okay to...you know, oy, I'm no good with this stuff!"

"He means it's okay to have a dad again, even when they're not really your dad," Pumbaa suddenly emerged into the grass, "consider Timon a 'here' dad. Your dad is a 'there' dad."

Timon cocked a brow.

"Even I'm not following, Pumbaa."

However, the little lion cub sniffled and asked, "you mean, it's okay to call Timon, you know? 'Dad'?"

The meerkat playfully punched him.

"You got it, tiger!"

Pumbaa sniffled and claimed he had to leave because he had something in his eye. When he was gone, Simba smiled and let a few more tears fall before saying, "Can we still go for that night swim?"

Timon smiled back.

"We sure can. We'll have a midnight bash afterward. All the bugs we can eat!"

As they got up to leave, Simba looked down at his foster father and said, "Thanks...Dad."

Timon linked his arm around Simba's as they walked towards the pond.

"You're welcome...Son."

The end

Author's note: My first "Lion King" story! I fell in love with it after I saw 1 1/2 and I'll probably be writing more Please review if you think it's good enough


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